Change Of Pace
by Tiny-Jesster
Summary: Behind the traditional ways of the Mushroom Kingdom lies Diamond City; the Vegas of the Mario World. Trying to find his way, Waluigi works for the giant conglomerate Wario. But as his job forces him to meet an ambitious young girl with a steely resolve, Waluigi must then decide what is worth his devotion.


It's not uncommon knowledge that on the outskirts of the Mushroom Kingdom begins the back streets of the infamous Diamond City; a dwelling that consists of a live-fast, die-young metropolis with a blinding array of neon lights and buzzing signs beckoning wayward wanderers into its artificial comforts.

It is not that the city itself is malicious, no no; it's a bustling livelihood which all manner of people retreat to once in a while to let loose and wind down through a vast variety of luxuries: such as intense yet respectable gambling, theatres, bars and all manners of nightclubs. This is indeed the heart of the city and where the roots of this suburban cavalcade stem from. It exists as a source of entertainment and pleasurable excitement for one seeking a more hyped and adrenaline-fuelled adventure.

However, behind the glimmer and dazzlement that this concrete jungle beholds lies a bitter truth. A truth that is discussed through hushed whispers and scurrying company; afraid to be caught talking about such a taboo topic between one another. Like a dirty shame that once you begin to peel off the seal to this topic, an unsettling feeling of grime seems to emanate from the skin; the kind of grime that no matter how vigorous a person scrubs, that feeling of crawling through a thick sludge which clings close to the body will only ever slowly fade away. Diamond City has its own rich tapestry of perversion and muggy lust which creates its seedy underbelly. Its existence is real, but one would not dare to lift a finger to stand against it, for sometimes it's better to be naïve and keep its business out of one's own.

A set of keys created a sensational clang as they were dropped on to the wooden dresser. This room was not nearly as luxurious as the building that occupied it. It followed a glorious ruby shag hallway which was tucked away at the end. It was dark and musty; dust covered the furnishing in a thick blanket and filling the air with a vintage musk.

A tall lanky man sat in a puffy armchair and sipped his drink from a sturdy glass. The glass glittered in the soft light as he rested his head in his hand, bored with watching the seconds tick by above him from an antique clock. Sounds of flushing cash floated in through the wall, the casino around him alive with the happy chatter of winning patrons, and the occasional wail of agony from losing bets.

While the whirs of slot machines and the buzzers of jackpots spewing out their fortunes drifted around, a different set of sounds mingled into the air; a rhythmical series of knocking battered against the wall, with a small muffled squeal seeping through into the room in sporadic intervals. A harsh voice muttered something and the squeaking subsided, replaced with a soft weeping.

Twenty minutes later and the noise subsided, followed with a harsh murmuring. It was a male voice, there was no doubt, followed by a tearful sob and a soft padding which darted past the door. Heavy footfalls thudded from the next room over before the doorknob rattled and twisted.

'It's about time' said the spaghetti-legged man, his voice a sharp nasal. 'I was beginning to think you couldn't step up your game.'

'It wasn't that I couldn't step up' grunted a heavy-set man with a thicker nasally voice.

'Its just that she was so _tight_! I mean, you can't find a broad like that nowadays. You sure can pick em, Walaweeg.'

A solid man wearing a velvety robe strolled in, the golden sash tied around his grotesque belly strained to stay together: some of the fibers being dangerously close to breaking point. With a thick waddle, he collapsed into the throne-like chair opposite, a loud 'ploomp' billowing out from the cushions as the enormous weight crashed without hesitation onto the wooden frame. A gurgle left the fat mans lips before a sigh of smutty content followed suit.

With a short sniff, Waluigi grinned lightly, tapping his gloved fingers on his glass.

'Not too hard, really.' He said. 'I can pick them by looking at them. Hope she was worth it.'

'Mmm, kind of.' Wario said, settling into an opposite armchair, rubbing his pink nose with two fingers. 'First timer. Probably ruined her. Not my fault.'

'So you say.'

'She came here willingly, therefore, it was consented to.'

'I heard you threatened her with the Koopalings.'

'Yeah, they're handy to have the contact with. Brings us a good crop almost every time. Can't argue with that.'

'I guess not.'

'Not thinking about of going soft now, Walaweeg, are ya? 'Cause you know what that'll mean.'

'Never even thought it, Wario my man.'

'Good. Because you owe me, y'know. You wouldn't have half the shit you got now if it weren't for me.'

'I'm aware.'

'Don't forget it. Sure, people might think this is a dirty business but it's easy to play the game.'

'For some.'

'Just keep your head down, do your job, and everything will be peachy-keen brother.

Peachy-keen.'


End file.
